#friends ranked

[kensatou]

you think YOU had a bad day at work?

bonus: sid shrieking "no!!!! NO!!!!!" loud enough to be heard in the stands and on camera

[freyadragonlord]

Han Yoojin: the best way to tame beasts - and people! ;) - is through food!

Sung Hyunjae, serving him eggs: that's really clever, Han Yoojin-gun

Han Yoojin: I can surely bond with Chief Taewon if we have a few meals together

Sung Hyunjae, serving him dessert: how brilliant ^^

Han Yoojin: wow this is really good, maybe you're not completely terrible

Sung Hyunjae: ^^

[kacievvbbbb]

Sabo really got that serial killer rizz about him

Like look at those eyes. Those are the eyes of a man that has several things wrong with him and he's about to make each and every one of them and this rusty pipe, your problem.

Fucking two steps away from "you wanna know how i got these scars", ass look.

He goes from so adorable, bending so koala can put on his hat, to I have not a single polite gene in my body and I will destroy you mentally before I destroy you physically to Just straight beating people's asses with a pipe like a thug

I'm obsessed with him.

[vashtijoy]

Thinking more about Akechi's rank 3, and about its flow into rank 4 at the jazz club—where Akechi begins to open up to Ren, by taking him somewhere special to him that he hasn't shared with anyone else.

Don't you think it seems off, on a first glance? Like it doesn't work? Because Akechi does not seem to entirely appreciate Ren's intervention. If you look at their phone call afterwards, it seems like Akechi lost control in the café, and is trying to take that back from Ren. He threatens him with what Ren "took" from him!—"I'll be dictating everything, from hair to accessories". Ren dictated the hair and accessories in rank 3, and now Akechi needs to do the same!

Make no mistake, this exchange, while cute as a button, is also Akechi struggling to regain some control that he feels he lost. He needs payback; he needs to meet Ren's challenge; he needs more.

So what's going on?

always in chains

As Akechi mentions in the engine room:

This line, of course, suffers in translation, so let's take a closer look:

Akechi 君は、今までの自分とか、��間関係とか⋯そういうものに囚われない。 kimi wa, ima made no jibun to ka, ningen kankei to ka… sou iu mono ni torawarenai You don't allow yourself to be enslaved by such things as human relations or past selves…

Did you understand this line on its first pass? Or at all? "Past selves"? What is this, Akechi, are we bringing in reincarnation now? What do you even mean by "human relations", is this a biology class?

Let's rework it a little. ima made no jibun—that's "the you until now". We might say "who you've always been". And ningen kankei—well, that is "human relations", translated very literally. But nobody would ever say that—it just means "relationships"! When you talk about your ningen kankei, you're often talking about your skills with relationships—how you get on with people. And Akechi gets on with people very well.

So what is he actually saying?

You don't allow yourself to be enslaved by such things as human relations or past selves… You're not a slave to expectations, or to how others see you.

Akechi will later tell us that these chains have bound him since his earliest days:

Those chains are the core of the resentment and envy he feels for Ren. More than anything Shido could potentially do to him, the expectations of others are what bind and torment Akechi. And this difference in how Akechi and Ren respond to outside pressure is one of the most important contrasts between them.

back to rank 3

So what does all of this tell us about rank 3, when Akechi is spotted by celebrity hunters?

In this situation, Akechi can't do anything but leave. He has to be the good boy everyone expects. He can't just sit there soaking up the adulation, and it seems clear that he isn't so inclined—look at the way he cringes away in his seat, and more to the point, look at his face:

Before he's accosted, his sprite and model match—he is probably genuinely pleased! But afterwards, though the sprite is sad, the model looks angry. Akechi can't confront his fans and ask them to leave him in peace. He can't dare to be angry with them, even though he's spitting tacks. He is chained—he can only ever do what people expect "Goro Akechi" to do.

Not just as a celebrity, but in every sphere of his life, even when he's carping to Sae or showing off for Shido, he is a slave to his public image—to the expectations others have of him. He cannot act outside that box. Society put Akechi in chains from babyhood—and his response was to own them, to build a bigger, better cell for himself. That he understands—he tells us how it works repeatedly!—and that he recognises, but can never escape.

So what is it that Akechi learns about Ren, in rank 3? It's that if you dare put Ren Amamiya in a cell, he'll tear it down.

Akechi could only dream of acting the way Ren does in this moment. Ren takes a huge risk here—on how Akechi will react, on how the crowd will react—and it pays off. Rather than submitting to the chains others place on him, Ren refuses to be bound. Ren is ungovernable.

Of course that's catnip to Akechi. Of course, even though it unnerves him, he wants more. He's drawn to Ren like a moth to flame—and this is the genesis of the bitter envy that will become so toxic by rank 8.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.1 (2024/10/06)—clarified some pronouns.

v1.0 (2024/10/06)—first posted.

[sotiredmostnights]

i know everyone likes to put tharja in the "yandere goth girl" category but tbh i feel like pigeonholing her into one specific archetype does a huge disservice to her character. is she obsessed with curses and robin? yes. is she constantly shoved into a fanservice role by intsys? absolutely.

but i think a lot of people forget just how impactful a lot of her supports are...there's something about tharja that makes nearly everyone who interacts with her divulge their deepest secrets and points of anxiety with her. we see this with libra, who tells her of the abandonment he endured at the hands of his parents. we see it with nowi, whose cheerful demeanor slips off as she tells tharja of her missing parents. and although tharja is not the only one lon'qu confides in regarding ke'ri, their support is notably the only one in which lon'qu divulges that there was romantic involvement between he and his childhood friend.

and despite her antisocial exterior, she always listens mindfully and offers to help! she even goes out of her way to discreetly help the shepherds (getting virion to do odd jobs that benefit civilians, interrogating henry to make sure he bears no ill will towards ylisse, etc).

a big thing about tharja is that she IS kind. she IS considerate. she just also has a reputation to uphold as a dark mage and that (paired with her overall awkwardness ofc) makes her true nature hard to see at first glance

[ink--theory]

playing with friends

[originalaccountname]

I think my issue with the various interpretations of Mori's evilness is that there's this idea that Mori went out of his way to purposefully and deliberately target both of Dazai's friends in Dark Era to teach Dazai a lesson, and not that Dark Era is a tragedy where the cards aligned a bit too well for Mori to resist the "logical" solution served to him on a silver platter and everyone (including him) lost something that day (not that he'll acknowledge it)

[wallabywhump]

Post Episode 8x08 CODA/Continuation

Content: Light angst, Buck spiralling, Buck's abandonment issues/running thoughts/(has ADHD), BuckTommy hints at the end.

Word Count: 1,965

Started writing this when the episode ended, please enjoy!

---

The sign goes out front of Eddie's house two weeks later, Buck helps to dig the hole. Buck helps talk to the realtor. Buck talks Eddie down from a three-bed home with an attic office in a HOA suburb and helps him find a respectably sized two bed that will leave him with money to renovate the bathroom and add a ramp up to the door.

Buck bakes a million cookies and eats them while Eddie has meetings with realtors. He sets out sweet breads and muffins when Eddie has an open house, and he happily serves them to people, "yes, there is a gluten free option! I was playing around with xanthan gum, so it shouldn't- oh, you're too kind."

All through it all, Buck focuses on Eddie, and he tries to ignore the ball of panic that's growing and growing and growing, as Eddie calls his mom and dad, and talks to Chris, and they're discussing going to view the home together and-

"I'll be there in two days, buddy!" Eddie says to Chris, a smile wide on his face while he put the autographed picture of the Hotshots cast into a wallet to keep it safe. "I can't wait to see you; we can talk without it lagging."

Buck takes a deep breath.

"Buck's not coming, LA won't survive if we both are off work."

Buck takes the butter off the heat, starts mixing in the sugar.

"I was talking it over with Grandpa, and we can go to the aquarium while I'm there. I'll even get to cheer you on in your chess match."

Chris groans. "You don't cheer during chess matches, dad, you have to be quiet."

Eddie laughs, and Buck needs to savor that sound. Needs to bottle up the sound of his best friend, and the kid he loves to the moon and back, teasing each other because he doesn't know how long he'll have this for. "Well, okay, you'll just have to teach me what to do, Mijo. I've never been to a chess match before."

The flour comes out of the microwave and Buck mixes that in, the soothing fold-fold-fold making his raging heart beat easier to ignore.

"You've never played chess before," Chris teases.

Buck spares a glance at Eddie, and he's fondly smiling at the tablet, and he says, "Well, you'll have to teach that too. Need to understand how you're winning, kid."

Buck is trying his best to be happy for Eddie, desperately putting his issues to the side, he hasn't even mentioned Tommy with all the baking he's been doing.

Eddie, graciously, hasn't mentioned how Buck has gone back to how he was the exact week after Tommy dumped him.

Or perhaps Eddie hasn't noticed with all the preparation and the legal jargon and clearing out everything to make the house look pretty for viewings, and Buck-

Buck really wants to talk to someone.

Eddie's leaving, Bobby is busy building a house, Hen, Maddie, Chimney-

Everyone's moving forward towards something happier. And Buck's stuck trying not to tie his best friend to a city with his sad puppy dog eyes and a pout, all while missing his ex so much that focusing on Eddie leaving drowns out that pain and fills it with something different.

"Buck?"

Buck jumps, dropping his spatula into the bowl. "Huh? W-What's-"

"Chris hung up, he's got school tomorrow."

Buck picks his spatula up, continues mixing his cookie dough. It's as he folds a third time that he notices he forgot the chocolate chips.

"More cookies?"

Buck forces a smile on his face, ignores the floundering puttering in his heart that tells him he needs to call someone before this becomes unsustainable. Baking isn't distracting him, it's not-

He wants Eddie to stay, he wants Chris to come home, he wants a barbecue in Bobby's backyard with his family-

He wants to call Tommy.

"It's for the viewing tomorrow," Buck says, proud of how even his voice sounds, how it doesn't even sound like a lie.

Eddie sidles up to the counter, looking into the bowl. "You don't have to try buttering up potential buyers with sugary goods. I know you set a precedent for the first one, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."

Buck puts the bowl and spatula down and bumps his hip into Eddie's as he starts greasing up the pan. "If I sweeten them up, maybe they'll actually buy, and you can leave quicker."

The free-sounding tease is easy, it's easy to fake, it's been easy to fake since that day he picked up the tablet and saw the houses. It's been easy to fake since Tommy dumped him, and he had to crawl out of his home and go to work and look somewhat put together, so no-one was scared on their calls. It's been easy to fake since Abby left him at the airport, and with a home that wasn't quite his, and an uneasy feeling in his heart that she wasn't coming back. It's been easy to fake since he was sixteen years old, and Maddie was leaving and-

Maddie, Abby, Tommy, Eddie.

People leave, and that's okay, and it's selfish to force them to stay. No matter how much he wished they would choose to stay.

Buck scoops out a glob of dough and drops it onto his pan.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, bud, I'm gonna have a beer while you finish with...that."

Buck sets up the mixer to bake a cake after he puts the cookies in the oven.

---

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and spirals.

The goodbye wave feels robotic, despite knowing that Eddie will be back in a week, even if it's just to start packing up his life to move it hours away. His phone sits in the dock on the dash, and Buck-

Buck doesn't have anything to distract himself from the yawning emptiness inside him.

Nothing to put his mind to, nothing to focus on, just a whole lot of nothing.

The nothing that has been eating away at every positive thought and coping skill he'd put into trying to ignore how much he missed Tommy. The way Tommy would rub his arm and pull him in for a hug when he was feeling low. How Tommy would sarcastically tease him when his anxiety spiked, until Buck couldn't even remember he'd been anxious. How they could sit in silence and not have to chat, and it was just peaceful, and it put Buck at ease, and Tommy wouldn't even mention when Buck's leg started tapping, he'd just put a hand on Buck's knee and lean his weight into-

Fuck.

Tommy would have been a rock through this, platitudes about Eddie not being dead, stop panicking. "I can fly a helicopter, babe, just say the word and you can visit."

Except, Tommy isn't his rock anymore. He's a hurricane that has Buck unmoored and swirling in an abyss of panic and loneliness and, fuck, shit, fuck, Buck has to talk to someone. Or bake something. Or go to the middle of nowhere, with no reception, and scream at the sky.

Everyone's busy. Eddie's on a plane. No-one...he has-

"Buck?"

Buck jolts, staring down at the phone now in his hand, Tommy's face filling the screen, his nose scrunched and looking confused, concerned and cold all in one expression.

So closed off.

"I-I didn't mean to call," Buck whispers, his voice weak and thready even to his own ears. "Hi. Uh, I'll just, uh, hang up."

Except Buck doesn't, he stares at Tommy and feels his heart stutter.

Tommy raises an eyebrow, and Buck watches the cold melt off Tommy's face, leaving only confusion and concern.

"What's happening, Buck?"

"I...just dropped Eddie off at the airport, and I'm sitting at the drop off spot in the taxi ranks, and-"

Tommy's confusion disappears, and his eyes soften, and he's openly concerned and it's like a knife in Buck's chest.

Buck lets out a hoarse laugh. "I've held it in for weeks, not calling, and my best friend leaves and it's like I can't help it- Jesus." Buck runs a hand down his face, he feels like a mess.

"Why did you call me, Buck?"

Because it was habit for six months straight, because every time Buck's been sad since the breakup he's had to physically remove himself from his phone to stop himself from calling Tommy, because Buck just wants to have Tommy as his, and he can't seem to move on despite everyone else seeming able to.

"Everyone else...is moving forward, making families and living their lives, but I'm-"

Buck should hang up, forget about this, say 'sorry, bye asshole', and block Tommy's number once and for all.

Except-

"I'm stuck, stuck on that day in my loft, wondering what happened and how that occurred, and all I've wanted since the day it happened was to call you and fix it or-or, I don't know...I just feel so incomplete here. Unsatisfied. Nothing-nothing makes sense."

Buck rolls on.

"And Eddie told me not to call, so I didn't, except then Eddie decided he wanted to move to Texas and I couldn't be selfish and ask him to stay, so instead I've been helping him, helping him leave my life, because then at least I helped control it."

Buck chokes up.

"Because he's an adult with different priorities, and he can make his own decisions and it's my job as a friend to support him, and I guess you'd know that too if you still talked to him, or hey, maybe he would have stayed for you." He's fucking it up, finally got Tommy on the phone and rather than giving Tommy all the reasons they could work, and he should stay, he's dumping all his fears about Eddie leaving. "And I- I'm not making sense, I'm all over the place, this is not what I wanted to say at all, I had a whole speech about how I love you, and I deserved better, and-"

"Are you safe to drive?" Tommy asks, his voice cutting through Buck's monologue.

Buck bites his lip and nods his head. Of course, Tommy doesn't want to hear about his problems, they're broken up.

"Yeah, yeah, I..." Buck sniffs, wipes at his face despite it being dry, and forces a smile on his face. "I'm just a little sad, sorry for calling."

Tommy shakes his head, and he looks like he's in physical pain, and God, Buck feels like an asshole. He's so selfish, and he should have just thrown his phone out and got a new number after the breakup if he knew he was just going to trample over boundaries.

"No, don't be s- I mean, okay, okay. This sounds like- Eddie left? No, this is a conversation for in person," Tommy sounds just as confused and lost as Buck, which isn't nice, because Buck expects Tommy to be a rock, to be steady, to be- well, that went out the window the night they broke up.

"In person?" Buck wonders aloud.

Tommy hums, and his nose scrunches up, and he puts a finger to the bridge of his nose. The video feed is shaking like the phone in his hand is shaking. Buck swallows and waits for whatever emotional turmoil Tommy is experiencing to pass.

"Drive yourself to mine," Tommy orders.

Buck stares at the screen in shock. "W-What? Tommy, I- no, I-" A taxi starts honking their horn behind him.

"Mine," Tommy repeats, sure, and despite everything it makes that emptiness in Buck feel a little smaller, like Tommy is filling it with just the promise of a conversation. "Sounds like you need to get going. See you soon, Evan."

Tommy hangs up, and Buck spirals, but he starts the car anyway and drives to Tommy's with a spark of something in his chest.

[sebfreak]

"We will help you, Natsume-dono!"

[daily-hanamura]

[gaycragula]

Go Fuck Yourself, Graves

Pairing: Phillip Graves x Male Reader Warning(s): 18+/NSFW under the cut

Warning(s): multiple orgasms, top reader, bottom graves, semi public sex, mentions of voyeurism, graves gets off to the though, overstimulation, friends to lovers :], confessions at the end Word Count: 4211 AO3 Link Account Navigation I need him on my dick so bad omg

“Come on, Phillip,” you groaned, rubbing at your forehead where a headache had begun to blossom. “You can’t tell me it’s not a good idea.”

“I can and I have, Lieutenant,” your dearest commander retorts back. He’s kicked back in his chair, looking at you with disdain. He had listened to your little idea, waiting for you to finish it before giving you your answer. No. It was all he had said and it irked you.

“Give me a reason,” you say, leaning forward on his desk so you were eye level with him. There was a fire he didn’t see often in your eyes as you glare at him. Were you trying to intimidate him?

You were lucky you were you Graves thought to himself, eyeing you down. You were his right hand man. His best friend even. If you’d been anyone else talking to him like this, even looking at him the way you were, he would’ve executed them on the spot. 

Graves hummed, squinting like he was thinking before shaking his head. “I said no. You’re pushin’ your luck,” he says your name with such disdain. You roll your eyes, scratching at your neck as you kick your chair away from his desk.

The huff you let out was nothing short of aggravated and annoyed as you stood straight, pushing your hair out of your face. The sly smirk Graves had on his face was proof enough that he enjoyed what he did to you. “Go fuck yourself, Graves,” you mumbled as you turned to leave,  

“Do it yourself,” he had instinctively taunted back. He caught you at a bad time it seems. Pent up with frustration and not having masturbated in almost 2 weeks.

You had stopped where you stood. “Is that a request, sir?” You ask, turning slightly to watch Graves’ reaction. 

“What?” He sat up in his chair, eyes narrowing as he looked at you. “Repeat that soldier.”

“Was it a request, commander?” You repeat, turning completely to lean forward on his desk again. “Or was it an order, sir?” You spit out the honorific and it has Graves’ cock jumping in interest.

A red blush spread across his cheeks as he sputtered on whatever he was trying to say. You kept eye contact with him for a moment before standing up. Graves swallowed as you walked around his desk.

His hands came up to grab your arms as you turned his chair around to face you. “Is it?” You ask again, pushing his chair back against his desk. 

“If it is?” His voice is barely above a whisper, his words shaky as he tried to maintain some control. He didn’t want you to have the total satisfaction of breaking him down. As if he had a chance.

“I’ve never been one to be insubordinate, sir,” you whisper in his ear. It was a lie, you both knew that. That didn’t stop Graves’ breath from hitching or his hips from jerking in his chair. He almost moaned aloud when your lips ghosted over his jaw. “Do you want me to fuck you, Commander?”

The grip on your arms tightened and the whine Graves gave you was sinful. “Please.”

He arched into you as you tilt his head back, dragging your teeth down the front of his neck. The moan he let out vibrated in his throat and you were eager to feel more. Your tongue lathed over his Adam's apple and you could barely keep in your chuckle as you felt it bob.

You turned his face away from you, following his jawline to the spot where his jaw met his neck. He was letting quiet, breathy moans out as you trailed down his neck.

He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle himself as you sank your teeth into his neck. You pulled back from his neck, admiring the mark for a moment with a smug smile. A glance to his face had you feeling even more smug. His eyes were lidded, looking at you in his peripheral. His chest heaved with each shaky breath he took. 

You turn his face back towards you, ghosting your lips over his before connecting them in a slow kiss. It drove Graves wild. He drowned in your taste, chasing your lips when you pulled back. He couldn’t hold back the whine when you turned your head just enough for him to miss your lips.

His lips pressed against the corner of your mouth before he dipped to your neck. You wrapped a hand around the back of his head, sighing quietly as you let him enjoy the momentary control he had. He nudged your jaw with his nose, pushing your head to the side to get better access before he was nipping at the tender flesh. 

You tangled your hand into his hair, almost missing the soft gasp he let out against your skin. Your fingers ran over his scalp, bringing a lovely shudder from your commander. A gentle tug on his hair got him away from your neck long enough for you to tell him to get out of his chair. 

He did so without complaint. 

You turned him around, clearing off a small area of his desk before pushing him down against it. His chest was flat against the dark wood, arms cushioning his head, his legs spread just wide enough for you to fit between them. That pretty little ass on perfect display for you.

Graves tried to relax as much as he could, trying to ignore the shaking in his legs. He’d been so pent up as of late. Every touch you gave him fueled the fire in his stomach.

You pushed his shirt up, revealing the tanned skin of his back. A shiver racked his body when your hand ran down his spine before it branched across the expanse of his back. He let out a breath as you traced over scars he’d acquired over the years. 

Your touches were tickling, simply ghosting over his skin. You admired him, watching his muscles flex under your fingers as you brush over his lower back. 

It drove him wild, your gentle touch. He’d known you to be rougher. Your grips on the field just bordering on painful when you help someone, pulling them behind cover, helping them up. Even touching someone in passing, you were more forceful than what was necessary. He’d been on the receiving end many times.

So to have your hands on him in such a gentle manner, almost like you would hurt him if you were anything else, had him keening, his heels digging into the floor to stabilize himself. 

Your thumb pressed into his spine, traveling down the length of his back with juuust the right amount of pressure. “You’re tense, sir,” you say. Your voice is just as gentle as your touch and it has Graves jolting from his thoughts. His back twitches in response.

“I’m just pent up,” he lies through gritted teeth. He can tell you don’t believe him but you don’t push for the truth as you wrap your hands around his waist to undo his belt. You drop his belt in his chair behind you, your hands making quick work to get his pants undone and halfway down his thighs. He’s already half hard, his cock twitching as cool air meets his skin.

Graves gasped as he felt your lips press against his spine. Your kisses trailed down his back, stopping right at his tailbone. He expected you to pull away then;  what he didn’t expect was the nip to the flesh of one of his ass cheeks. 

He gasped your name as he looked over his shoulder. You’d gotten on your knees behind him, your fingers digging into the soft, pliable flesh of his thighs. Your lips drag down his thigh, leaving fire in their wake. The muscles of his thighs flex under your touch, goosebumps rising to his skin as you continue your ministrations. You take a moment to suck a hickey on his inner thigh, pressing kisses over it before you continue.

The prettiest little whimpers fell from Graves as he buried his face back into the crook of his arm. You trail back up his thigh, over his cheek before Graves feels your breath fan right over his hole. You see his back tense at the feeling and you’re running your hands over the back of his thighs.

“Relax,” you whisper, waiting until the commander does so before running your tongue over his hole. The sound that comes from his mouth is absolutely pathetic. A loud, drawn out whine falls from his lips. He feels you smile against him before you’re spreading his cheeks to gain better access. 

His boots squeak below you as he tries to steady his shaky legs. You’re of no help as you tongue at his ass, your hands gentle as they continue to run up and down his thighs. He almost shouts as you suddenly dig your nails into his skin, dragging them down his flesh. Marking him, he realized with a moan, burying his face in his arms. You pull away from him momentarily to catch your breath before you’re back on him.

Your tongue presses into him and he moans, the sound muffled by his arm. He’s startled by the way you eat him out- like a man starved. He bites into his arm to further muffle himself, absolutely embarrassed at how good having your tongue in him feels. 

One hand cups his balls and you feel him jerk above you. You hum against him, patting his thigh as you fondle his balls. He’s panting into his arm, the stimulation making his mind go blank. All he can think about is your tongue and your hands on him.

He’s embarrassed at the whine that tears from his throat as you pull your tongue away from him, kissing back up his spine as you stand up. “Lube?” You ask.

“Second drawer under the manilla folder,” he responds, glancing back at you over his shoulder as you rummage through said drawer. He hears you let out a triumphant huff and the click of a lid before the bottle comes into view. You douse your fingers with a generous amount, rubbing the stuff between your fingers to warm it up a bit before pressing one digit against Graves’ saliva slicked hole.

Your clean hand caresses his lower back as you spread the cool liquid around his hole. Graves can’t help but to relax at the touch, trying to shift his hips in a way that will get you to dip your finger inside. The chuckle you give has him shivering. “Please,” he whispers, looking at you with those gorgeous eyes of his.

The tip of your finger breaches him and he keens, eyes fluttering shut. You work your finger in slowly, fucking it into him until you’re knuckle deep in him. He reacts so pretty as you crook your finger in search of the little bundle of nerves. 

You know you’ve found it when Graves’ body tenses and his breath catches in his chest. “That feel good?” You hum, massaging the spot to see his reaction. He nods eagerly, panting as you bully his poor prostate. 

Even with your fingers inside of him, you were gentle. Your brushes against his prostate were soft, just hard enough for him to get a jolt of pleasure with each pass. You have him drooling on his sleeves with just one finger.

The second finger prods at his hole. “Ready?” You ask, smoothing your hand over his lower back. He nods, taking a deep breath as you worm the second inside. The stretch is pleasant, Graves thinks, moving his hips to grind back against your fingers. You allow him to do so, leaning down to litter his still clothed upper back with kisses.

You stretch him open slowly, taking your time so as to not hurt him. Going slow like this lets you hone in on the shaky inhales, quiet hiccups, and muffled moans Graves is gracing your ears with. You take an agonizingly slow pass over his prostate with your fingers. You swear you could’ve come in your pants as Graves draws out your name in a moan, a big glob of precum dribbling from his cock into his boxers.

A third finger was quick to join and you were watching in fascination and Graves’ ass hungrily sucked in your fingers. He stretched so nicely, you smile as you hold him open for a few seconds, simply watching the way he twitched around you. 

Soon, Graves was babbling about wanting more, needing more. “Your cock. Please.”

Who were you to deny your commander?

You remove your fingers, biting back a grin as you see him clench down on nothing. Graves is watching you over his shoulder, watching you with those pretty eyes as you undo your belt, setting it with Graves’ in his chair. You undo your pants just enough to pull your cock out. 

Graves’ eyes widen in anticipation. You’re going to fill him so nicely. His eyes never leave you as you lube yourself up, letting out quiet sighs as you finally give your neglected cock some stimulation.

You press your tip against him, watching as he gives a whole body shudder at the feeling- the thought of being filled. You tease him just a moment longer, pressing the head of your cock in for just a moment before pulling out again.

He curses you, just loud enough for you to hear. “Bastard.”

You give him an amused chuckle as you begin to slowly push into the blonde. He arches off the desk with a loud moan. He was right. You’re not even all the way in and he feels so full. You can hear him panting below you, hissing in pain when you would push in just a little too fast.

His sounds of discomfort were met with quiet apologies and a pausing of your movements until he gave you to go ahead.

Your breath shook as you finally bottomed out. Your hips pressed against his and the keening whine Graves let out was nothing short of addicting. Your body draped over his, hands planted firmly on the desk on either side of his shoulders. Your lips pressing short kisses behind his ear as you wait for him to adjust.

He’s tight, warm around you. You can’t believe this is happening. You don’t know how long you’d been crushing on the blonde. Years; you know that. You’d been working by his side for close to 6 years. Knew him before that for a few years- long enough for him to trust you to be his right hand man. 

 Each twitch of your hips has him clenching around you. “Don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this, sir,” you whisper, your voice low, barely audible over the thrum of his heart in his ears. 

If the way he tenses was any indicator, you think he heard you. You continue.

“Can’t get you out of my head.” 

His legs shift as he arches his back with a moan of your name. You press your nose into the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath in. He was wearing your favorite cologne, the scent filling your nose before you were letting a shuddering exhale out.  

“Smell so fuckin’ good.” Your hips draw out slowly and Graves groans. “Y’know the cologne you’re wearing s’my favorite?”

Graves takes a mental note as he shakes his head. He can’t find the words he wants to say, having to settle on a whine of your name and clenching around you. “Feel so good around me,” you praise, lowering to your forearms to drag your lips across his cheek, right over the scar he has.

You push back in just as slow, choking on your breath as Graves lets out a strangled moan. He stretches perfectly to accommodate your prick and you find yourself biting your lip as you watch yourself disappear into him. 

“You take me so well. Look at that,” you praise, not missing the sharp inhale Graves gives in response. His face is bright red, the flush extending to his ears and disappearing into his shirt. You litter kisses along his neck where you can reach as you begin to roll your hips into him. You start slow, letting him get used to the feeling.

His hands clench into fists as he gasps with each draw of your hips. He sounds so pretty. His mouth is open in silent gasps. Gentle. Even in his muddled state, he can hear you whispering to him, your lips pressing soft kisses against his skin. It crossed his mind once. Were you making love to him? Some of the other quick fucks he’s had had been rough, quick. Not you. You were taking your time, making sure he was comfortable- not in pain.

It took him begging for you to speed up for you to do so. You waited for him to give you the go ahead. You were desperate to please, speeding up until the quiet sound of your hips hitting his filled the small office. He could hear you letting out your own desperate, though quiet, moans.

It was a dream come true for you.

Graves raises to his forearms before reaching for one of your hands. He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls it under him, holding it to his chest. You can feel his heartbeat like this. You flush at the action- imagine that. You’re balls deep in your commander, rutting into him like your life depends on it and this is what flusters you.

You let out a barely audible whine before you’re pressing your face into the back of Graves’ neck. A strangled chuckle rumbles in his chest as you press featherlight kisses against his neck. 

“Close,” Graves pants, eyes fluttering shut as his hand squeezes yours. You take your free hand and snake it down his body to fist his cock. He nearly shouts, his hips instinctively shooting forward into your touch. 

He fucks himself back onto your cock before his hips shoot forward, caught between the stimulation your hand granted him and the feeling your cock was giving him. “Stay still, Commander,” you whisper. 

The use of his title paired with your lovelorn? voice has him doing what you say. He fights the urge to seek his own stimulation and you grant him exactly what he needs. Your hand runs over his cock with vigor, a stark contrast to your hips. 

Graves comes in your hand with a hiss, his head lolling forward as you fuck him through his orgasm. You whisper praises against the shell of his ear, slowing the roll of your hips until you’ve stilled in him and he’s gone soft in your hand. “Stop?” You ask, biting back the chuckle as Graves shakes his head almost immediately.

“Please don’t,” he whispers, turning his head in an attempt to catch your lips. You grant them to him, the kiss sloppy as you start moving in him again. His hand squeezes yours hard as he gasps, the overstimulation racking his body with pain. The hand on his dick remains, groping him gently.

You stay slow, watching his body tremble with each draw out. He’s moaning out loud now, the pain bordering pleasure as you brush against his prostate with every other roll of your hips. “Might wanna quiet down. Don’t want everyone to hear you, right sir?” You tease, groaning as Graves tightens around you in response, his own moan giving you your answer.

“Oh? You like that idea?” You pick up the pace a little, enjoying the way Graves hiccups as tears prick at his eyes. “Want one of your shadows to come in? See you like this?”

He can only nod, eyes rolling into the back of his head at the thought. He wants them to know who he belongs to. Your breath is hot against his shoulder and he’s realized you’ve pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. “Can I bite you?” You ask.

Graves’ cock jumps in interest and you feel it. You can make out the quietest ‘fuck- please’ between his moans and you don’t waste any time sinking your teeth into the tender flesh of his shoulder. It brings a cry from Graves who does nothing to muffle it. You kiss around the mark apologetically before sucking accompanying marks around it. 

He curses lowly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. His cock was hard in your grip and you gave it an experimental squeeze. Graves arched away from you, his hips jerking away from your hand, back onto your cock. “Too much?” 

He nods and you pull away from his cock. You went to wipe your hand off using a nearby towel, stopping when Graves says your name. “Give me your hand,” he whispers and you do as he says, watching intently as he licks your hand clean of his own spend. 

Your hips jerk harshly into his and he gasps. Your now clean hand rests on his hip, holding him as you pound into him. His body shakes with each thrust in, choked moans forced from his mouth. 

You groan lowly, your hips stuttering and you know you’re close. “Where do you want it?” You ask, pressing your lips against his cheek in a wet kiss.

“Inside. Fuck fuck please- Inside.”

You give a few more hard thrusts before you’re hunching over him again, burying yourself as deep as possible as you paint his insides white. Graves barely hears the ‘I love you’ you’ve murmured against his neck before he’s adding to the mess in your hands with a shout, legs finally giving out beneath him as he collapses against his desk. 

It takes a moment for you to catch your breath and even longer to come back from the muddled state your brain was in. He can feel your forehead pressed against his upper back, hear your heaved breaths. Graves didn’t seem to mind, waiting until you’d gone soft inside of him and a little longer until you finally shift behind him. 

You pull your hand from his, using it to hold his waist as you pull yourself out of him, hissing as pain shoots through you from the overstimulation. You reach for the box of tissues, trying your best to get Graves cleaned off before helping him stand upright. He leans into you, looking up at you with lidded eyes. “Think you owe me a shower.”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

—-----

“You don’t tend to be gentle like that,” Graves mentions offhandedly the next morning. You’re sitting in his office again, having brought him a coffee, your own drink sitting in front of you. 

You hum in acknowledgement, leaning back in the chair you’re seated in. “”Would you rather I be rough next time, sir?”

 It’s a genuine question he realizes. But it doesn’t stop Graves from nearly choking on his coffee, sputtering at the thought of a next time. “No no. I enjoyed it. A lot,” he assures, a faint red hue rising to his cheeks as he looks down at a report in front of him. Anything to avoid eye contact with you. “It’s just- you tend to be rougher out on the field. Surprised me is all.”

You offer him a genuine smile. “Force of habit, I suppose, sir. Never been one to get rough during sex.”

Your answer is as genuine as your smile and it brings a quiet laugh from Graves. The sound was like honey to your ears. You feel your heart jump in your chest and a flush rise to your cheeks. 

His chair rolled back from his desk and he got up and walked around to stand in front of you. A reversal of what had happened yesterday. You craned your neck to look up at, tilting your head as he told you to stand up. You did so a moment later. 

Hands found the collar of your shirt and you felt him fumble with it as he fixed it. He smoothed your shirt down before wrapping a hand around the back of your neck and pulling you close. You felt his nose brush along your cheek before his lips were on yours. 

Graves smiled against you as you returned the kiss, your hands finding purchase on his hips, your fingers looping in his belt loops, to hold him close. You traded chaste kisses, chasing each other's lips every time the other pulled away. You were breathless, laughing and smiling against each other with each kiss. 

Your foreheads pressed against his as you finally separated long enough to catch your breath. Graves had a pretty pink tint to his face, a smile worming its way across his face as he looked at you. He was so pretty.

His voice broke the silence his office had fallen into. “I love you too,” he whispers, your name following the confession. You can’t help the smile that spreads on your face as you pull him into another, longer kiss.

[cathartidae]

TOP TEN HYMENOPTERA

AS RANKED BY ME, AN UNQUALIFIED TUMBLR USER WHO LIKES WAUCE

this is for you @hawkpartys

NUMBER 10

AMERICAN WINTER ANT- they have funny asses. thats how i tell em apart compared to all the other ant sp in my area. big ass (src)

NUMBER 9

GENUS EUSANDALUM- this is mostly bc of hazes comment on it. quote "ma'am not to like profile you or anything but this is an oak and you are a small wasp. i think i know what you're here for. (src)

NUMBER 8

EURYTOMA- i cant actually give you a proper image of this one i wanna talk abt since the sp split is still in progress. however they just look ridiculous. girl ur ass (src)

NUMBER 7

SUBFAMILY GONATOPODINAE- why do you look like that. (src)

NUMBER 6

TRIBE THYREODONINI- just look at this thang. what a creature. gongeous (src)

NUMBER 5

BLACK GIANT ICHNEUMONID WASP- i nearly excluded this one bc i was like "ohhh theyre too basic". ichneumonid wasps. basic? bro 90% of people have never heard of the cunts man. anyways 10/10 love these guys. (src)

NUMBER 4

TRIBE PEPSINI (TARANTULA HAWK WASPS AND ALLIES)- i realy couldnt not include these theyre just fuckin gorgeous man (src)

NUMBER 3

CHRYSIS CHROSOSTIGMA- literally gongeous. all jewel wasps are my faves tbh theyre just so pretty (src)

NUMBER 2

VELVET ANTS- oh yeah you have a taxa thats mostly known for their wings? NO fuck you. wasp ant. its like an ant but its actualy a wasp. hell yeah. i wanna see one so bad the horticulture prof at my college says she sees em in the garden sometimes (src)

NUMBER 1

CICADA KILLERS (GENUS SPHECIUS)- i just love em. theyre so ridiculous and really really gorgeous. truly truly the creatures of ever.

HONORARY MENTION

gall wasps. bro you are so fucking ridiculous HWY DO TYOU LOOK LIKE THATTTTT my favourite things is to find oaks and look for the silliest galls on em. i founf one called a yellow wig gall. fucked up (src)

[littlemagicalstardust]

Chuck Taylor got asked to do the rank your roster video for AEW: Figure Fighters! (the filter only selects a small random few unfortunately) When Kris Statlander showed up, he said: "Kris Statlander.. you just turned on my friend, so fuck you. You're 10" He's still one of Orange's best friends <3

[fangirlforeversthings]

Anakin did at least once accidently call obi wan mom/mommy during his childhood since training with him and you can't never change my mind about that.

[inamagicalhallucination]

anytime atsushi gets excited his tail pops out and wags but no one tells him becuz they think its funny to see atsushi try and pretend he's not excited and act nonchalant

atsushi is genuinely surprised and confused how everyone always knows what he wants or wants to do

dazai, kunikida, and atsushi coming back from a mission

kunikida, noticing atsushi looking at an ice cream stall: atsushi do u want ice cream

atsushi: oh i dont care either way! if u and dazai san want to then...

dazai: i dont re-

kunikida and dazai staring at atsushi's wagging tail:

dazai: ooh~ kunikida-kun~ how kind~ to offer us ice cream~

kunikida: as if bastard! i'll buy it for atsushi but ur a grown ass man

dazai: if only i had a tail :(

atsushi: what

dazai: what

atsushi:

//

like that

yosano: how did u choose a gift for atsushi? theres so many things i could get... since he's not used to owning much

ranpo: my genius deductive skills obviously

yosano:

ranpo: okay fine i chose like 10 and mentioned them to him subtly and bought the one he wagged his tail for the most

yosano:

yosano: oh shit u are a genius

ranpo: why r u acting surprised

//

atsushi: cant believe i have to work with you again,,, why do we always have to see each other ugh

akutagawa, staring (like wan staring) at atsushi's wagging tail:

//

bet atsushi never takes time off becuz idk he doesn't think he can - like he knows he can but he also doesn't think he can

that doesn't make sense but i hope u get it

anyway he never requests time off - he's only not there if he's sick (and was bullied into resting) or something like he personally never puts in the request

if there's some festival or event or anything that anyone thinks atsushi would want to go and would go if not for work they let the boss man know

fukuzawa: atsushi, you haven't taken much time off, but it's good to take a break now and then. if you want, you can have monday and tuesday off. (which weirdly is the exact time that that one event u wanted to go to is on but obviously thats just a coincidence)

atsushi, tail wagging: oh that's alright

fukuzawa: i insist.

//

what else hmmmmmmmm

kyouka: atsushi, do you want me to make that dish again? you liked it right?

atsushi: oh i did! but you dont have to if you dont want to! i mean if you do you totally can

kyouka, staring at his tail: i'll make it

//

junichiro, after coming back from a longer mission:

atsushi: heyyy we didn't see each other all day!

junichiro, trying not to show how touched he is becuz atsushi's tail is wagging, showing how happy he is:

and so on

[maespri]

oh my i never really saw myself making a post like this, but i really wanna talk about morgana! more specifically… why i don’t really understand the hate he receives.

for starters, i know a lot of people dislike mona because he gets on ryuji’s case often. his squabbling with ryuji can get hurtful at times too, i know, but i feel like so many people conveniently leave out the fact that… ryuji returns fire? it’s not as though mona is constantly attacking poor ryuji who can’t defend himself; it’s a two-sided fight throughout most of the game. both of them are constantly fueling the fire. not to mention, it’s a fight that eventually ends. both individuals have great character development (i could talk about it for /ages/, but i digress) that ends with their fighting essentially ceasing entirely. they’re both dumb teenage boys, they both said dumb stuff to each other, and they both hurt each other, and all of that is recognized and left in the past.

the hatred toward mona in general is something i struggle to understand entirely. you hate this cat because he tells you to go to bed? the game would have told you to do that one way or another, because it’s a game. there have to be constraints, or you’d get terribly overpowered incredibly fast. i wholeheartedly agree that mona’s lacking in comparison to the other characters in many ways- but i’ve never hated him, and was surprised to see a lot of people did.

maybe i’m just weirdly empathetic toward fictional characters, but i really liked his storyline. mona’s been with the protagonist since day one, helping him out, staying with him, encouraging and supporting him in everything he does, navigating them through mementos and palaces and battles… and he’s never really appreciated for any of it. obviously, the other phantom thieves do the same and don’t require any extra praise, but morgana already has a complex stemming from the fact that he’s not human. inherently, he believes he’s not nearly as good as any of the others, and subsequently, that he isn’t good enough in general- and he’s so ashamed of that that he can’t even voice the concern to the protagonist pre-okumura’s palace. it made sense to me when he snapped and ran away; if you were constantly the black sheep of a group, unable to engage with anyone unless the guy you live with is always there as well, wouldn’t you yearn for autonomy too? (don’t even get me started on the haru parallels there; there’s a reason morgana snapped during the okumura arc.) if you felt expendable and there wasn’t ever an effort made to prove otherwise, purposeful or not, wouldn’t you also want to leave? to spare both yourself, and the people you’re leaving? i really liked his arc because it led to two realizations- that he was pivotal to the group, and it was fine if he ended up not being a human. (and honestly, he was pivotal to my group… who else would i use to heal everyone outside of battle…!)

anyway, his objectification of women was weird. didn’t like that. but this is a JRPG, and he’s not the only one who does strange things like that at times (why was ryuji looking at ann’s chest in the mona bus outside futaba’s palace man…). honestly, his flirting was also weird at times, but as long as it never got strangely sexual, i didn’t really mind? it’s not like it ever genuinely bothers ann either as far as i remember. it’s more just a stupid thing he does.

anyway… i dunno. i like the kitty. he’s silly, he kept me company, and he made my playthrough fun. life is so much more beautiful when you carry love in your heart rather than resentment